Ouroboros
by mariachiMushroom
Summary: Growing up can be painful. Especially when you must devour your twin in order to complete your metamorphosis into an adult. TW: cannibalism, violence


"How did you find the warbuxx grown of my flesh?" The budded twin lounged on his sleeping platform.

"As delicious and perfect as you are, my brother," said the other twin, licking his fingers. This was the first time they had partaken so much of a warbuxx. At royal feasts in the past, a freshly birthed warbuxx had been served as a tantalizing amuse-bouche, but divided amongst the hundreds of guests, they had only received a pea-sized fragment each.

"Next time, it will be you who carries the bud."

"It would be my pleasure."

"No, it will not." They laughed in unison, their future known but unacknowledged.

One day, the two would become one.

One day, their cannibalism would not be by proxy.

"Come out, my sons!" announced Ozzal from his floating platform above the arena. The crowd cheered as from the dark tunnels under the stadium, one twin emerged, clad in chitinous armor and brandishing a spear with a bright red claw at the end. On the other side emerged the second twin, in silver armor polished to a mirror sheen, and hoisting a trident with knives for tines.

The twins looked at each other from across the distance of one hundred meters, the furthest they'd been from each other in their entire lives. In unison, they glanced at the royal pavilion, where their father hovered next to the crystal chrysalis one of them would use to transform into an adult. Next to the father, the horned, bulbous body of Impexx, the being formerly comprised of triplets, sneered at the two unwilling combatants. Not even having his structure rearranged on the molecular level could reduce the scorn he felt for his younger broodlings.

"Let the Ceremony of Xorvux commence!" With one tentacular appendage, Ozzal slapped the crystal. An ethereal hum traveled across the stadium, vibrating in the guts of all gathered.

"We wanted a private ceremony, Ozzal," muttered the twins. They shuffled across the sandy ground, and started half-heartedly swiping their weapons at each other.

"I do not wish to hurt you, brother," said one, as he swung his clawed spear low and slow.

"Neither do I," replied the other, jumping over the spear and jabbing his own trident at his brother's head. The red-armored twin bent over into a backflip, wrapping his legs around the trident and pulling it out of his brother's arms. He swung the spear around dramatically, telegraphing his intent so that his twin would know to dodge, and then jabbed the crab claw forward.

The pincer closed around the silver-armored twin's middle. He fell backwards, letting the spear pin him to the ground.

"It looks like you won, brother."

"No, this cannot be. You must get up. The pincer has not bisected you."

"It is futile. One of us must lose." The "victorious" twin tore aside the spear and straddled his other half. The losing twin took off his gauntlet and pressed his fingers into the other's mouth. Closing his eyes, the victor bit down.

The first drop of green blood awoke an instinctual hunger. He could not stop himself from biting off one finger, then another, sucking off the flesh and crunching the bone.

"How do I taste?" said the twin on the bottom, taut with pain, yet making no effort to push off his brother.

"Delicious," sobbed the twin on the top, as he resisted the urge to gnaw through his brother's neck. While his mouth gnawed on his brother's hand-stump, the top twin pulled off his gauntlet. "I will share this experience with you." The top twin cut his thumb on his extended mandibles and plunged it into the bottom twin's mouth.

The bottom twin's pupils dilated as the hunger took over. His mandibles extruded, and he bit off the entire hand in one massive bite. The agony in their hands, the ecstasy in their mouths: they were happy to be experiencing their final moments in complete symmetry.

Freed from inhibition, the two quickly devoured each other's arms and legs, their limbless torsos squirming around as if they were once again larva frolicking in the cyanosulfide pools. With a massive gulp, they swallowed each other's hips and began gnawing their way up until they could swallow no more.

"This is untraditional," pondered Ozzal, as the crowd boo'ed.

"Looks like they chickened out," jeered the one who had formerly been three.

"Silence! Scrape them up and put them in the crystal-lis," commanded Ozzal. "We shall see who emerges."

Light filtering green through an opaque crystal.

"My body hurts."

"So does mine."

"Brother! You have survived!"

"It seems you have as well."

"Let us embrace," they chorused in unison. A boneless limb whipped around the inside of the crystal, slapping both across the face.

"My apologies. My new limbs are quite strange to me."

"No, that was my limb."

"That is both our limbs?" The two of them flexed their central mass, and burst their crystal-lis. The crowd gathered for the royal hatching gaped at the two-headed being in front of them.

"Oh, my Garlax," said Ozzal. "This is unprecedented."

"It seems we have both survived our metamorphosis," said the twins in unison. "Now we are closer than ever."

"You have become an abomination who shall never receive an adult name," decreed Ozzal. "Because of your mercy, you are unfit to rule my domain. You are banished, never to return to your home."

"You know what this means?" said one twin.

"Yes, I do," said the other.

"Eternal road trip!"


End file.
